FROM the day of Fred's arrival, he and Thea were
unceasingly active. They took long rides into the
Navajo pine forests, bought turquoises and silver brace-
lets from the wandering Indian herdsmen, and rode twenty
miles to Flagstaff upon the slightest pretext. Thea had
never felt this pleasant excitement about any man before,
and she found herself trying very hard to please young
Ottenburg. She was never tired, never dull. There was
a zest about waking up in the morning and dressing, about
walking, riding, even about sleep.
One morning when Thea came out from her room at
seven o'clock, she found Henry and Fred on the porch,
looking up at the sky. The day was already hot and there
was no breeze. The sun was shining, but heavy brown
clouds were hanging in the west, like the smoke of a for-
est fire. She and Fred had meant to ride to Flagstaff that
morning, but Biltmer advised against it, foretelling a
storm. After breakfast they lingered about the house,
waiting for the weather to make up its mind. Fred had
brought his guitar, and as they had the dining-room to
themselves, he made Thea go over some songs with him.
They got interested and kept it up until Mrs. Biltmer
came to set the table for dinner. Ottenburg knew some of
the Mexican things Spanish Johnny used to sing. Thea
had never before happened to tell him about Spanish
Johnny, and he seemed more interested in Johnny than
in Dr. Archie or Wunsch.
After dinner they were too restless to endure the ranch
house any longer, and ran away to the canyon to practice
with single-sticks. Fred carried a slicker and a sweater, and
he made Thea wear one of the rubber hats that hung in
Biltmer's gun-room. As they crossed the pasture land the
clumsy slicker kept catching in the lacings of his leggings.
"Why don't you drop that thing?" Thea asked. "I
won't mind a shower. I've been wet before."
"No use taking chances."
From the canyon they were unable to watch the sky,
since only a strip of the zenith was visible. The flat ledge
about the watch-tower was the only level spot large enough
for single-stick exercise, and they were still practicing there
when, at about four o'clock, a tremendous roll of thunder
echoed between the cliffs and the atmosphere suddenly
became thick.
Fred thrust the sticks in a cleft in the rock. "We're in
for it, Thea. Better make for your cave where there are
blankets." He caught her elbow and hurried her along the
path before the cliff-houses. They made the half-mile at a
quick trot, and as they ran the rocks and the sky and the
air between the cliffs turned a turbid green, like the color
in a moss agate. When they reached the blanketed rock
room, they looked at each other and laughed. Their faces
had taken on a greenish pallor. Thea's hair, even, was
green.
"Dark as pitch in here," Fred exclaimed as they hurried
over the old rock doorstep. "But it's warm. The rocks
hold the heat. It's going to be terribly cold outside, all
right." He was interrupted by a deafening peal of thunder.
"Lord, what an echo! Lucky you don't mind. It's worth
watching out there. We needn't come in yet."
The green light grew murkier and murkier. The smaller
vegetation was blotted out. The yuccas, the cedars, and
PINONS stood dark and rigid, like bronze. The swallows
flew up with sharp, terrified twitterings. Even the quak-
ing asps were still. While Fred and Thea watched from
the doorway, the light changed to purple. Clouds of dark
vapor, like chlorine gas, began to float down from the head
of the canyon and hung between them and the cliff-houses
in the opposite wall. Before they knew it, the wall itself
had disappeared. The air was positively venomous-looking,
and grew colder every minute. The thunder seemed to
crash against one cliff, then against the other, and to go
shrieking off into the inner canyon.
The moment the rain broke, it beat the vapors down.
In the gulf before them the water fell in spouts, and
dashed from the high cliffs overhead. It tore aspens and
chokecherry bushes out of the ground and left the yuccas
hanging by their tough roots. Only the little cedars stood
black and unmoved in the torrents that fell from so far
above. The rock chamber was full of fine spray from the
streams of water that shot over the doorway. Thea crept
to the back wall and rolled herself in a blanket, and Fred
threw the heavier blankets over her. The wool of the
Navajo sheep was soon kindled by the warmth of her
body, and was impenetrable to dampness. Her hair,
where it hung below the rubber hat, gathered the mois-
ture like a sponge. Fred put on the slicker, tied the
sweater about his neck, and settled himself cross-legged
beside her. The chamber was so dark that, although he
could see the outline of her head and shoulders, he could
not see her face. He struck a wax match to light his
pipe. As he sheltered it between his hands, it sizzled and
sputtered, throwing a yellow flicker over Thea and her
blankets.
"You look like a gypsy," he said as he dropped the
match. "Any one you'd rather be shut up with than me?
No? Sure about that?"
"I think I am. Aren't you cold?"
"Not especially." Fred smoked in silence, listening to
the roar of the water outside. "We may not get away from
here right away," he remarked.
"I shan't mind. Shall you?"
He laughed grimly and pulled on his pipe. "Do you
know where you're at, Miss Thea Kronborg?" he said at
last. "You've got me going pretty hard, I suppose you
know. I've had a lot of sweethearts, but I've never been
so much--engrossed before. What are you going to do
about it?" He heard nothing from the blankets. "Are you
going to play fair, or is it about my cue to cut away?"
"I'll play fair. I don't see why you want to go."
"What do you want me around for?--to play with?"
Thea struggled up among the blankets. "I want you for
everything. I don't know whether I'm what people call in
love with you or not. In Moonstone that meant sitting in
a hammock with somebody. I don't want to sit in a ham-
mock with you, but I want to do almost everything else.
Oh, hundreds of things!"
"If I run away, will you go with me?"
"I don't know. I'll have to think about that. Maybe I
would." She freed herself from her wrappings and stood
up. "It's not raining so hard now. Hadn't we better
start this minute? It will be night before we get to
Biltmer's."
Fred struck another match. "It's seven. I don't know
how much of the path may be washed away. I don't even
know whether I ought to let you try it without a lantern."
Thea went to the doorway and looked out. "There's
nothing else to do. The sweater and the slicker will keep
me dry, and this will be my chance to find out whether
these shoes are really water-tight. They cost a week's sal-
ary." She retreated to the back of the cave. "It's getting
blacker every minute."
Ottenburg took a brandy flask from his coat pocket.
"Better have some of this before we start. Can you take
it without water?"
Thea lifted it obediently to her lips. She put on the
sweater and Fred helped her to get the clumsy slicker on
over it. He buttoned it and fastened the high collar. She
could feel that his hands were hurried and clumsy. The
coat was too big, and he took off his necktie and belted it
in at the waist. While she tucked her hair more securely
under the rubber hat he stood in front of her, between her
and the gray doorway, without moving.
"Are you ready to go?" she asked carelessly.
"If you are," he spoke quietly, without moving, except
to bend his head forward a little.
Thea laughed and put her hands on his shoulders. "You
know how to handle me, don't you?" she whispered. For
the first time, she kissed him without constraint or embar-
rassment.
"Thea, Thea, Thea!" Fred whispered her name three
times, shaking her a little as if to waken her. It was too
dark to see, but he could feel that she was smiling.
When she kissed him she had not hidden her face on his
shoulder,--she had risen a little on her toes, and stood
straight and free. In that moment when he came close to
her actual personality, he felt in her the same expansion
that he had noticed at Mrs. Nathanmeyer's. She became
freer and stronger under impulses. When she rose to meet
him like that, he felt her flash into everything that she had
ever suggested to him, as if she filled out her own shadow.
She pushed him away and shot past him out into the rain.
"Now for it, Fred," she called back exultantly. The rain
was pouring steadily down through the dying gray twilight,
and muddy streams were spouting and foaming over the
cliff.
Fred caught her and held her back. "Keep behind me,
Thea. I don't know about the path. It may be gone alto-
gether. Can't tell what there is under this water."
But the path was older than the white man's Arizona.
The rush of water had washed away the dust and stones
that lay on the surface, but the rock skeleton of the Indian
trail was there, ready for the foot. Where the streams
poured down through gullies, there was always a cedar or
a PINON to cling to. By wading and slipping and climbing,
they got along. As they neared the head of the canyon,
where the path lifted and rose in steep loops to the surface
of the plateau, the climb was more difficult. The earth
above had broken away and washed down over the trail,
bringing rocks and bushes and even young trees with it.
The last ghost of daylight was dying and there was no time
to lose. The canyon behind them was already black.
"We've got to go right through the top of this pine tree,
Thea. No time to hunt a way around. Give me your hand."
After they had crashed through the mass of branches, Fred
stopped abruptly. "Gosh, what a hole! Can you jump it?
Wait a minute."
He cleared the washout, slipped on the wet rock at the
farther side, and caught himself just in time to escape a
tumble. "If I could only find something to hold to, I could
give you a hand. It's so cursed dark, and there are no
trees here where they're needed. Here's something; it's a
root. It will hold all right." He braced himself on the rock,
gripped the crooked root with one hand and swung himself
across toward Thea, holding out his arm. "Good jump! I
must say you don't lose your nerve in a tight place. Can
you keep at it a little longer? We're almost out. Have to
make that next ledge. Put your foot on my knee and catch
something to pull by."
Thea went up over his shoulder. "It's hard ground up
here," she panted. "Did I wrench your arm when I slipped
then? It was a cactus I grabbed, and it startled me."
"Now, one more pull and we're on the level."
They emerged gasping upon the black plateau. In the
last five minutes the darkness had solidified and it seemed
as if the skies were pouring black water. They could not
see where the sky ended or the plain began. The light at
the ranch house burned a steady spark through the rain.
Fred drew Thea's arm through his and they struck off
toward the light. They could not see each other, and the
rain at their backs seemed to drive them along. They kept
laughing as they stumbled over tufts of grass or stepped
into slippery pools. They were delighted with each other
and with the adventure which lay behind them.
"I can't even see the whites of your eyes, Thea. But I'd
know who was here stepping out with me, anywhere. Part
coyote you are, by the feel of you. When you make up your
mind to jump, you jump! My gracious, what's the matter
with your hand?"
"Cactus spines. Didn't I tell you when I grabbed the
cactus? I thought it was a root. Are we going straight?"
"I don't know. Somewhere near it, I think. I'm very
comfortable, aren't you? You're warm, except your
cheeks. How funny they are when they're wet. Still, you
always feel like you. I like this. I could walk to Flagstaff.
It's fun, not being able to see anything. I feel surer of you
when I can't see you. Will you run away with me?"
Thea laughed. "I won't run far to-night. I'll think
about it. Look, Fred, there's somebody coming."
"Henry, with his lantern. Good enough! Halloo! Hallo
--o--o!" Fred shouted.
The moving light bobbed toward them. In half an hour
Thea was in her big feather bed, drinking hot lentil soup,
and almost before the soup was swallowed she was asleep.
Read next: PART IV. THE ANCIENT PEOPLE#Chapter 8
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